


third time's the charm

by candlewick



Series: holiday oneshots [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pizza Delivery Boy, Hanukkah, Kleinsen, M/M, Pizza, Winter, i'm sorry i'm not jewish please educate me on hanukkah, jared's the delivery boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-08 18:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12869994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candlewick/pseuds/candlewick
Summary: The first time he called the pizza place, Evan met a cute delivery boy.The second time he called the pizza place, Evan learned the cute delivery boy's name.The third time he called the pizza place? Evan really had to update his phone plan.





	third time's the charm

**Author's Note:**

> listen,
> 
> i am a MESS. this took so long and it's so short and dumb and idk how to tag or write summaries or come up with creative titles okay i'm sorry
> 
> please enjoy as much as possible ty

How long had Evan been sitting on this couch? He had no idea.

His mother had insisted he eat dinner after learning he was skipping meals in favor of avoiding social interaction, promising a big dinner on the last day of Hanukkah if he just tried. His people skills had improved over his freshman year of community college, since he'd had to act like the adult he was and take responsibility for things. Evan could order things at the cafeteria without holding up the line while trying to get his words out. He could do a lot of things now. He could raise his hand and ask a question without sputtering everywhere. He'd even managed to get a part-time job at some coffee shop without turning into a sweating mess every time he worked at the register.

Using a phone to call people was the next thing he'd have to work on. Here he was, sitting on the worn sofa at nine in the evening, staring at the number of some cheap pizza place on his phone as the hum of the portable heater went on a few yards away. He still lived with his mom since they couldn't afford for him to move out yet and still had no damn clue how to talk to someone over a phone.

It was horrible. A cursed concept. Bad idea. Once you mess up, the only way to escape is hanging up. Even when you do that, the person you messed up to has your number, so they could text you or trace you or call you back. What if he said the wrong thing or accidentally pressed the "end call" or couldn't speak at all?

Shit, no. He was hungry and tired and just wanted some pizza. He was nineteen now. He had to make this call. He'd already backed out, like, twice.

Before Evan could change his mind, he pressed the green "call" button and raised the phone to his ear. He had a slip of paper in front of his with his order written on it, just so he wouldn't have to take a moment to remember. His phone rang once. Then twice. Three times. Just as he was about to back out, someone picked up.

"Good evening, how can I help you?"

After a few minutes of ordering and giving his address, Evan hung up and tossed his phone to the opposite end of the couch. He heaved a sigh, dropping the slip of paper with his order before rubbing his face. That was terrible. Awkward. Uncomfortable.

But he had done it.

Evan laughed softly in disbelief. That had gone well. Sure, a few stammers on his part and silences on the employee's end, but he'd placed an order and thanked the worker politely before ending the call, which was much better than he was expecting it to go. Now all that was left was to wait for the delivery, which might take a longer time than usual, due to light snow.

Oh.

He suddenly felt drained. The thought of having to answer the door and let out the heat and get out his cash and tip and trade it over for the pizza and wait for change and holy crap would the delivery guy want to make conversation? Delivery guys totally made conversation, even when it was cold as shit out. Oh, Evan was so dead. So, so dead. This would be a mess.

Around twenty minutes passed before there was a knock at Evan's door. He shot up off the couch and tried his best to make it look like he wasn't anxiously sitting on the couch while bouncing his leg as he waited. After a long breath, he swung the door open, already tensing from the sudden rush of cold, winter air.

And.

Wow.

The delivery boy was _extremely_ cute. Even in his baggy polo shirt, jacket, and crooked baseball cap, all with the pizza place's logo.

He was a few inches shorter, which made Evan have to tilt his head down slightly in order to look at him, but seemed to be around his age. Some tufts of brown hair stuck out of his cap. Black-framed glasses sat on a cute nose, where there were super faint freckles if you were looking close enough (which Evan was). His cheeks and nose were kind of pink from the cold. Behind those glasses were two entrancing eyes. At first glance, they were a cool blue. Another, closer look made Evan realize that in the bottom left corner of the boy's right eye, there was a warm pool of brown.

"Hey," the delivery boy said, looking Evan up and down indiscreetly. For some reason, his customer service grin turned more genuine. The blond flushed at the action, hoping it'd pass for being chilly, and raised a hand to rub the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Uh, hi," he answered after a brief moment of staring.

"Evan, right?"

"Evan," the blond nodded.

The delivery boy raised a brow, looking amused.

"That's your name?"

"Y-Yeah, no, I'm Evan, sorry," he rushed to say, looking to the side.

"Why are you sorry?"

"B-Because you said it, and then I said it, I repeated it, which is just--it's so annoying when people do that, so."

He flushed when the delivery boy laughed, a joyful ringing in the air.

"Yeah, okay, Evan. I got your medium veggie pizza," the shorter male said, holding out the pizza with a grin, the receipt resting on the box. Evan fumbled to get his money out, carefully taking the box and letting the boy grab the twenty dollar bill. "Out of twenty-five, alright."

"Uh, the five is your tip."

"Oh, cool."

Evan awkwardly stood there, holding the pizza box with both hands as the delivery boy counted out some change. Okay. Yeah. This guy was cute. What wasn't cute was the lump of anxiety in Evan's throat, slowly expanding until he felt like he couldn't breathe. Maybe he couldn't, maybe his nose was plugged and would start to run from the temperature. Oh god, that would be the most embarrassing thing.

"Keep the change," he blurted out suddenly, stepping back and nearly dropping the pizza as he closed the door. He saw the delivery boy adjust his cap and look up in confusion for a split second, right before the door fully closed.

Wow.

\----

It had been a week and Evan still couldn't stop quietly screaming into his pillow.

How could he mess up that badly? "Keep the change"? He must have sounded like an asshole! The cute delivery boy probably thought he was a snide and impatient person who couldn't wait long enough for him to count out the change!

He had to fix this.

Thus, Evan picked up his phone, went to his call history, then called up the pizza place.

Immediate regret.

Holy crap holy crap holy crap what did he just do--

"Hello?" He asked, quickly putting the phone up to his ear once it was answered.

Around twenty minutes later, Evan was rushing downstairs to the living room with his wallet in hand, having just gotten over dry sobbing facedown on his bed. Just a few minutes later, a few knocks came from the door. He huffed softly and adjusted his shirt before opening the door enough to make a foot-wide opening and peering through.

Same delivery boy. Same grin. Okay. Good. Nice. Yes.

"Hey, Evan," he greeted, holding up the box of pizza. "Me again. One small cheese pizza."

"Um, hey," Evan said awkwardly, opening the door open wider. This time, he had a jacket on, but the harsh air hit his face hard. He tried not to wince at the cold breeze and held up the twenty dollars and switched it out for the pizza box. "Five dollars tip."

"On a twelve dollar bill? Dude, you're a saint," the delivery boy said, flashing a brighter, friendlier grin that made Evan melt.

"I-It's nothing. Really," he said with an awkward laugh, watching the boy start to count change.

"You're awesome. Don't run away while I count this time, I already took too much last week."

Crap, he remembered. Well, of course he would, that was such a weird thing to do. Evan screamed internally, biting his lip so no sounds could actually tumble out. He had to force himself to stay put even though he really wanted to hide away again. Why did he even call again? He wasn't in the mood for pizza. He didn't even like cheese pizza, he'd just gotten it because it was the first thing he could remember. This was a total mess, he had to say something.

"So uh, what's your name?" He asked quickly. The delivery boy looked up from the cash in his hands, looking surprised for a brief moment before his expression turned nonchalant.

"Jared," he said after a short beat of silence. He looked back down and held his hand out, stating the amount of change. Evan took it gratefully and took a step back.

"Thanks, Jared," Evan said bashfully, giving a small wave before starting to close the door. The shorter male adjusted his baseball cap before tugging his jacket collar up with a nod.

"No problem, Evan."

\----

"You shouldn't be ordering this stuff every week, y'know," was the first thing Jared said the next week. Evan felt that familiar blush dust over his face.

"Huh? O-Oh, yeah, no, I know." They swapped cash for a small box of pizza, Jared looking up at Evan in amusement. "Five dollar tip."

"Again? Didn't think I was that good of a delivery boy."

"Well, I-I think you are."

"Thanks."

"Yeah."

It was silent after that. Evan tugged the hem of his shirt down awkwardly as Jared took his time counting off change. It didn't seem like it would take this long, but Evan stayed quiet instead of asking something about Jared's speed that might come off of rude. If he wanted to stay standing in the cold for some Christmas note or something (even though Evan was very much Jewish), he could.

Finally, Jared held out the change. Evan took the few bills and coins, taking a small step back and opening his mouth to say something caring and smooth, like "drive safe", or "have a nice night", or even both. Then Jared put a finger up to stop him and Evan paused, closing his mouth again.

Had he done something wrong? Did Jared need the change back? Oh god, what if Jared had caught a whiff of Evan's deodorant and wanted to point out how it didn't mask the smell of sweat very well? Should he get new deodorant?

"Hold on, let me just..." Jared trailed off, putting his hand down to search for something in his pocket. Evan watched, resisting the urge to smell himself, which would be weird. Jared took some receipt out of his pocket. Evan was about to take it, thinking it was for him, but Jared kept it in his hand and pulled out a pen as well.

Evan stared awkwardly, then glanced down at the pizza. No, his receipt was there, as always. Okay. He looked back up. The brunet was pressing the receipt to the doorframe, muttering curses under his breath as he scribbled with the pen. When it began to work, he wrote on the pen neatly. Jared soon clicked the pen again and held the receipt out so Evan couldn't see what he wrote on the back.

Hesitantly, the teen set the change on the pizza box and took the small piece of paper. Before he could read it, Jared spoke up again.

"Have a nice night, Evan," he said, shoving the pen and his hand into his pocket again. Evan looked up in time to see Jared turn around, walking a bit faster than usual to his car. The blond waved slightly, then put his hand down once he registered that Jared wouldn't be able to see him.

Against his conscious will, his eyes drifted down. Okay, nope, nope, that was rude, Evan what the hell.

Face flushed, Evan looked away, opting to stare at the receipt, and held the edge of the door once he heard a car door slam. Before he knew it, Jared had drove off. Did he smell that bad? God, that was embarassing.

He closed the door and carefully set the paper on the pizza box, right on top of the change. He raised an arm to sniff himself, then pursed his lips. He didn't smell. At least, he didn't think so. He'd heard something about not being able to smell yourself.

Evan sighed and lowered his arm, strolling to his couch to eat the pizza while it was still hot. Then he'd have to leave it in the fridge, along with the other two leftover pizza slices. If his mom didn't notice already, she definitely would later.

He moved the change and receipts onto the table once he'd set the pizza box down. He was about to sit down and open it, but curiosity seemed to guide his gaze to the piece of paper Jared had written on. He reached out and took it, noting the unfamiliar pizza order. It must have been something a different customer didn't want. He turned it over, first eyeing the scribbles caused by Jared trying to get the pen to work. Evan was mildly amused at the spirals.

He looked below that. Open parentheses, three digits, closed parentheses, then--

This was a phone number.

Jared gave him his phone number.

Evan nearly screeched. He dropped the receipt, not even watching it flutter to the floor. He jumped up and down, running his hands through his hair. His arms flailed as he spun in a circle before flopping onto the couch, laying in his back.

"Holy shit!" he gasped, laughing to himself. He looked over the couch to grab the receipt, eyeing the numbers again. Below that was name, written in small letters. "Jared". This served to make Evan squeal, pumping a fist in the air.

Suddenly, there was a quick knock on his door. Evan froze, shooting up to look at the door. After a moment, there were more knocks. His mom almost never came home this early. When she did, she just used the house key. The blond ran another hand through his hair to fix it before standing up and walking over. He hesitated before turning the knob, peeking through.

Oh, it was Jared. Evan held back a sigh of relief and opened the door fully, looking down at the delivery boy quizzically. The baseball cap was held by both of his hands, revealing more messy, brown hair. He didn't miss the brunet glancing down at the receipt still in his hand.

"Jared? Uh, what do you--"

The shorter male stepped forward and placed a firm kiss on Evan's cheek, effectively shutting him up. It wasn't much, but it was enough to make Evan flush and place a hand over his cheek once Jared pulled away.

"Happy Hanukkah. Or, um, merry Christmas," Jared stated, rubbing the back of his neck. Evan couldn't form a response until a few seconds later.

"I mean--I'm Jewish."

"Oh shit, me, too."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

This was awkward, Evan had to do something, he had to be courteous and polite and smooth and cool, _Jared just kissed him on the cheek_.

"Do you... want to come in for hot chocolate?" he asked awkwardly. Jared glanced up at him and he winced. "No, I mean--no, you're still working, nevermind, um--"

"Later," Jared cut in. Evan wasn't one for reading people, but the teen in front of him glanced over his shoulder, into the house, and he could swear Jared wanted to accept the invitation. "I'm off on some days. You can, uh. You have my number, so."

"Huh? Oh! Oh, right, this, yeah. Thank you."

"No problem."

Before Evan knew it, Jared had put his baseball cap on and left with a brief wave. Once his car had driven down the road and out of sight, the blond shivered and realized just how much warm air he'd released. He quickly ducked inside again, locking the front door and leaning against it. He looked down at the number on the receipt and smiled, feeling giddy.

Third time's the charm.

**Author's Note:**

> ba ba BAM there it is
> 
> tysm for reading i'm vv sorry this was. garbage i'm on winter break rn hopefully i can get some holiday oneshots in hnnghgh


End file.
